


Ravage Me

by 823freckles



Series: Bleed to Love You [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut, porn (mostly) without plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-18 23:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1447633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/823freckles/pseuds/823freckles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After reviewing candidates and dinner, Alana asks Hannibal to ravage her.</p>
<p>Part of "30 days of Hannibloom" with the wonderful charlotteof_denmark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ravage Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [charlotteof_denmark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlotteof_denmark/gifts).



> Many thanks to charlotteof_denmark for sharing her idea and prompts with little old me.

She stretched her arms above her head, raising the paper in her hands above her head too. “Wow, I’ve never read so much crap in my life.”

Alana threw down the application from a hopeful doctoral candidate on top of the increasingly disordered pile of application she’d been reading. 

“Language, Alana. That’s a lot of vitriol coming from you, Doctor.”

She shivered in delight. Hannibal had called her doctor. A step up from him usual “Ms. Bloom” when he chastised her. 

She bowed her head. “That was rude of me. Sorry. I just don’t think I can take any more of this tonight.”

He stood up from his spot across from her at his dining room table. “Perhaps you just need a drink.”

He turned from the table and walked to his fridge. He took out a hand-capped bottle of dark ale, and uncapped it with a flourish. “My own recipe,” he explained, as he poured out the beer into a pint glass. He placed the glass in front of her, and waited for her to drink.

She generally preferred pale ales, but she wasn’t about to disrespect Hannibal when he shared his own brew with her. She hesitantly raised the glass and took a swig. 

It was delicious. She tipped the glass to Hannibal and said, “You know, now that I’ve had your special brew, Hannibal, I don’t think I’m going to go back to Budweiser and Miller.”

He tapped his brow and winked. “Nor should you. Those are inferior drinks unsuited to you.”

He picked up his own glass of Chianti and took an appreciative sip. “I would like you to try this. It’s time for you to appreciate the pleasure of a robust bouquet.” He offered her his glass.

She took a sip and swallowed, allowing the wine to warm her insides. “It’s delicious. But what can I say? I’m a beer girl.” She passed the wine glass back to Hannibal and picked up her own glass of beer, taking an appreciative swig. “I think I can handle one more…okay, two more applications, then I need dinner.”

“It will be my pleasure to cook for you, Alana.”

\---

Hannibal rubbed the large cut of meat with spices as Alana hastily chopped an onion, tears welling in her eyes. When she was finished, she moved onto the pile of carrots. He glanced up and saw her sloppy knife work, the onions and carrots unevenly sliced. 

“Your knife work needs improving.” Ever the honest and appraising educator, he said, “Let me show you, Ms. Bloom.” She was back to her role as his pupil, a role both familiar and comfortable. He walked around her and wrapped his strong arms around her body. She bit her lip and the knife slipped in her hand. 

“Careful!” He grasped her hands and guided her with gentle but assured movements. He was confident in the kitchen and in his skill as he helped her slice the carrots evenly. 

“Do you see?” he asked as he let go of her hands. She felt disappointed at the loss of his hands on hers, but she answered.

“Yes. I think I’ve got it now.” She picked up the last carrot and sliced it evenly and assuredly. He nodded his approval as he returned to the roast.

Alana felt like she’d lost another chance, but for what, she wasn’t sure.

\---

Alana finished the last bite on her plate, then picked up her glass of ale and took another drink. She was beginning to feel light and loose from the liquor coursing through her system. She rarely allowed herself to drink heavily anymore. But in Hannibal’s presence, she felt free, especially since she had not failed to notice that he had finished another sizeable glass of wine with dinner. She picked up her empty plate and stood, then stepped towards Hannibal. 

“That was delicious, as always.” As a sign of appreciation, she brushed her free hand against his hand resting next to his plate. 

He grasped her wrist as she pulled away and ran one finger up then down her arm. “You are always the appreciative guest to my host, Alana.” He stood, his delicate but strong fingers still on her wrist.  
It has to be the wine. He’d never touched her like this, so intimately, before.

When she kissed him, she thought, “The beer too. It’s the beer.”

She stood on tiptoes to kiss him again, her heels discarded earlier while assessing candidates. He groaned, deep in his throat. Then he pulled away, and she sighed in disappointment. She prepared herself to apologize, but he simply took her plate and placed it on the table next to his. He grasped her wrists and pulled her to him, initiating a kiss. Emboldened by the liquor and his kiss, she flit her tongue out between her lips, touching the tip of her tongue to the corner of his mouth. He tasted like wine and meat and a taste she couldn’t identify. A purely Hannibal taste. 

He pulled her from the dining room into his living room, maneuvering them around his piano as he kissed her lips, her cheeks, her neck. He breathed warm against her pulse spot on her neck right below her jaw, and she shivered. Then he bit her right on her jaw, and she cried out. 

He abruptly spun her around and she gasped as he pressed her against the arm of his sofa. His hands ran up her body from her hips to her breasts. He palmed her breasts, and she felt her nipples harden beneath her dress. He began to rub her hardened nipples between the tips of his fingers, making circles around the lust-sore nubs. As he continued his ministrations on her right breast, he lifted his left hand and brushed her hair back from her neck. Hannibal kissed her neck, and then sucked on her earlobe. Alana sighed as he whispered into her ear, “Tell me what you want me to do to you, Ms. Bloom.”

“I want you to…I want you to…ravage me,” she stumbled over the words, whispering. 

He spun her around again, giving her a light push so that she fell over the arm of the sofa, her behind landing on the soft cushions. He grasped her legs and spun them off of the sofa’s arm onto the floor. Then he lithely went to his knees between her legs, which she spread willingly before him. 

He lifted her dress and ripped off her panties, pulling the shreds free from her legs without her help. Her legs were closed again in shyness, and he shoved them apart. Leaning forward, he bit her thigh, drawing blood. Alana screamed. She could feel the droplets rise on her sore skin, and he licked the blood on her thigh. He raised blood red lips to her, and pulled her neck down to kiss him. She tasted her own metallic blood on his tongue.

“You’re delectable, Alana. I could. Eat. You. Whole,” He enunciated, each word sending a shiver up her spine.

Her head spun. “Yes. Please.”

“Call me master. Tell your master to ravage you.”

“Ravage me, master. Ravage me, Dr. Lecter.”

He lowered his head between her thighs and licked.

“Buzzzzzzzzz.”

Alana’s alarm went off. Her shoulders bunched and she sighed as she rolled away from the patch of sweat she’d left in her bed. 

She wondered how many nights she was going to spend dreaming of Hannibal Lecter between her legs.

**Author's Note:**

> We’re always awoken from our best dreams at inopportune moments, aren’t we? And I can be cruel, so it seemed like a great place to wake our dear Alana. ;)


End file.
